Cinderella
by Moon Prynces
Summary: Brick is witness to what one of his classmates is really about on this chilly night at a mature, how-did-you-even-get-in-here club. The class president apparently has a more devious nature that she'd rather not let her friends and family know about. Blossom/Brick


1-15-11

1:33am

Summary–Brick is witness to what one of his classmates is really about on this chilly night at a mature, how-did-you-even-get-in-here club. The class president apparently has a more devious nature that she'd rather not let her friends and family know about. Blossom/Brick

**Disclaimer–I do not own The Powerpuff Girls, which belongs to its respective owner(s) and is only being used in a fan-made, fictional story.**

**xoxo**

**Title–Cinderella**

**By–Moon Prynces**

**xoxo**

She grinned mischievously, inviting the lewd looks and salacious suggestions that were thrown her way.

Obviously she didn't mind. It showed in the way she dressed – a low-cut, shimmery tank top with a pair of low-riding _leather_ pants.

Who in the world owned leather pants anymore?

Blossom did.

Blossom owned a pair of leather pants. And more low-cut tank tops and shirts. And even more astounding, at least half a dozen _mini_-skirts.

The Professor would have a heart attack if he knew. Her sisters would choke on their gasps of surprise. Her classmates? They would roll their eyes and demand proof that any of that could possibly be true.

This was _Blossom_, after all. The perfect student. The role model. The most rule-abiding, non-corrupt teenager that every parent dreamed about.

But as the seconds ticked by, Brick still staring in shock with his cup never meeting his lips, he wondered if any of them knew her at all.

It wasn't the most well-lit establishment, so he had to believe his eyes were deceiving him. Except he couldn't.

Why?

...It was the hair. No one had hair like Blossom (well, he only matched her for color). A natural redhead was one thing, but the length and shine proved it _was_ the devoted control freak he had class with.

What was she doing in a club full of people over twenty-one? How did she get in? _What was she doing?_

This last thought was brought forth as he watched her continue her conquest of the dancefloor, where moves so vulgar were unleashed that his eyes bugged out of his sockets and he was forced to put down the drink lest he drop it.

She turned around to some guy that was dancing behind her and slung an arm around his neck as they continued moving their bodies in sync, this time inciting more confidence in the guy as he now had her attention _and_ seeming permission.

Sure, it wasn't something new. These kinds of "dance" moves were the norm in such clubs.

But not from her.

He stared in fascination as she closed her eyes and threw her head back while the guy grinned, probably wondering when he could lead her away for his own kind of fun.

That's when Brick decided she must be drunk. Her friends probably just got immersed in the crowd and couldn't see what was going on.

He stared hard a moment before working his way casually across the dancefloor and through the crowd, careful not to let any random girls drag him into their rhythm while still dancing innocuously.

Somehow he managed to get behind her while still moving to the song, causing her current dance partner to glare at him – trying to mark his "territory".

Instead he went on with the beat a few moments longer, not wanting to start some fight over a drunken girl just yet.

Up close he knew for sure it was her. He could see her face flecked with something that glinted in the lights, obviously the fallout from her glittery eyeshadow. Her lips were also painted a vibrant red, completely different from her usual look which left her lips naked of any pigment. And he was still getting used to the clothes. _Where _was her jacket?

He carefully, out of sight of her partner, enclosed a hand around her wrist (the one that wasn't around that guy's neck anyway) and tugged lightly.

Brick watched as, like a butterfly, her eyes fluttered open with a few dazed blinks and her movements slowed down uncertainly.

After a look up at her partner's face (smirking down at her now), it was confirmed he wasn't the one pulling her. The tug was coming from the other direction.

Blossom threw a casual glance over her shoulder and caught Brick's eyes.

And that was when he knew she was _nowhere near _drunk.

They were still moving, but not as fast as the beat, and if the crowds weren't so thick and dense – forcing them to be so close to each other – he wouldn't have heard her quiet, slow intake of breath.

He watched her close her eyes, breathing heavily – though if that was from the intense workout from the all the dancing she had done or because of the current situation, he didn't know.

Her arm slipped from the guy's neck and she turned to smile at him deviously. She whispered something into his ear and he nodded with his smirk before leaving the dancefloor.

Brick watched the guy go and then Blossom turned around to face him. She stared at him coolly and proceeded to the bar.

He followed at a polite distance, hoping to undo any awkwardness they'd incurred from the previous moments.

When she stopped at the bar and just _stood there_, looking at the counter, he tried to ease the tension.

"What'd you tell him?" Brick asked curiously.

Blossom threw her blank gaze over her shoulder. "To meet me by the restrooms."

His eyes widened, at both the implications of her words and the easy way she said this.

"I should be long gone when he realizes no one's coming to meet him," she replied to his look with the same dull voice.

Brick narrowed his eyes. "You're fucking with his head?"

Now _that_ he didn't expect. It was more unexpected than– than her _actually_ having sex with the guy. She was more conniving than she let on.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, turning to him and folding her arms. But he did catch her eyes glance over his shoulder, trying to make sure that guy didn't pop up looking for her so soon.

"I could ask you the same thing," he shot back with a smirk of his own. "Nice outfit, by the way."

Surprisingly, she didn't change color and sputter in embarrassment. Instead, her level gaze remained but an eyebrow lifted slightly in response.

He frowned at her uncharacteristic behavior.

"I better leave before he comes looking," she said, and turned to someone behind the bar. "Hey, I'm gonna get going." And he expected her to take a parting shot of some drink, but instead the guy there picked up something from behind the counter and handed it to her.

A jacket and bag.

Brick blinked in surprise, yet again, and numbly followed her to the exit as she shrugged on her things.

When they got outside the crisp, cool breeze slapped him in the face and made him grab her wrist again.

"What's going on?" he questioned with a more determined gaze.

Blossom was already smiling slightly and shaking her head at herself. She almost started laughing out loud. "Of all the people," she said to herself.

He didn't let go, and waited.

She looked up at him with a quirk of the lips. "How could I explain it to you?" Blossom wondered, his grip easing. "It's like..." Her eyes darted around the street. "It's like Cinderella in reverse."

Brick slowly let go, staring at her in curiosity and suspicion. Seeing as he'd discovered how conniving she could be, he had to suspect she might be fucking with his head too.

"During the day I'm perfect." And she said this with a mocking smile and head tilt, apparently finding it funny somehow. "But on nights like these..." Her eyes glazed over and her lips twitched with some memory. "I get to be the reckless, fun-loving party girl. Not caring about guys and their 'accidental' gropes as I dance carelessly. With makeup and clothes that should automatically label me as 'easy'. There are no grades or student council or college prep to worry about."

Brick was mulling this over. So she had been alone in there. No one else knew. _He _wasn't supposed to know either.

Blossom smiled at him sadly. "During the day I'm perfect," she repeated. "Like a princess – not a hair out of place. But on these nights I'm dirty and lewd and I don't give a damn. I can mess up my hair and run home without my shoes, no charming prince to follow me."

He watched her carefully as she smiled hopelessly at him.

"I guess I can't expect you to understand," she tried to shrug it off and turn away.

And he could tell she was tense about the fact that her secret was now known. She was probably worrying about what he would tell everyone at school, seeing as they weren't friends or anything.

_That's right_, Brick remembered.

They were just classmates. In a little over a year they would graduate and it wouldn't matter what happened to the know-it-all class president. He was just another smartass kid who rolled his eyes every time her voice came across the PA system announcing more fundraisers for orphans and animals.

Except…she didn't look so innocent and pure now – walking down the street in clothes that could get her unwanted attention. And yet it seemed as if she wasn't new to this kind of thing. She wasn't cowering or glancing around uneasily. Still the confident persona he was familiar with, just in more, unfamiliar ways.

Brick stared a few seconds more, face twisting up indecisively before rolling his eyes in exasperation and walking towards her.

"It's a good thing I'm not a prince," he said without glancing at her. "The charming part, however, depends on who you ask."

Blossom looked at him warily, still keeping her gait.

"My car's this way," he said and veered off to cross the street to the black sedan.

Then she stopped in her tracks and stared in surprise.

"I don't know you well enough to just hop in a car with you," she said loudly so her voice would carry.

Brick looked up while opening his door. "And I thought I knew you pretty well actually." He shook his head. "But I don't. I'm willing to change that if you are."

Blossom pulled her jacket closer as a breeze picked up and she peered around the practically empty street. Then she lightly jogged to his car as he stood by his open door, watching her.

"I'm only agreeing to a ride home. Nothing else," she clarified while pulling open the passenger door.

Brick grinned as they both got in.

Because even though she was trying to fight him – so reluctant to just accept a ride – it only intrigued him more. Obviously no one really knew _princess_ _perfect_ Blossom after all.

But, he was one step closer.

...Which was more than he could say about that guy back at the club, probably looking for her by now.

**xo end xo**

**Done.**

This story is brought to you by the inspiration that struck me while reading (and rereading) a passage from one of my favorite books, "The Truth About Forever" by Sarah Dessen. Here is how it goes:

"So while at home I was still fine-just-fine Macy, wiping sink splatters immediately and ironing my clothes as soon as they got out of the dryer, the nights when I arrived home from catering, I was someone else, a girl with her hair mussed, a stained shirt, smelling of whatever had been spilled or smeared on me. It was like Cinderella in reverse: if I was a princess for my daylight hours, at night I let myself and my composure go, just until the stroke of midnight, when I turned back to princess again, just in time." (page 105)

1) I thought a lot about this in the past day, because it was basically done since yesterday. I just had to fix up some things and write a proper conclusion that sat well with me. What I realized is that I'm sure people will want me to continue this and make it a full story but I'm sorry, I can't. Not only do I not have the time and energy for such an endeavor, but I had no intention of writing a multi-chaptered fic. This was just an idea that occurred to me while reading something else (the passage I just showed you above).

2) In fact I wasn't sure I wanted to include Brick in this at all. I could have just left it as a more introspective drabble with just Blossom reflecting on her life and actions. Or maybe just an omniscient POV examining and explaining her and her situations. Somehow Brick wound up in there and then he wanted something from her by the end. It's not about the romance though. I believe in the potential of things, so I guess that's the theme I usually write about. A lot of my stories are left open at the end with the understanding that yes, those two characters do get together.

I'm not sure what else there is to say because I already talk too much in my end notes. Thanks for reading and tell me what you think! (And please don't try and beg me to write more on this plotline, I'm just saying it won't get you anywhere. I have considered my options and it's a no.)

=]

1-17-11

3:00am


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